Impressions
by Loki's Scribe
Summary: Six siblings conquered Olympus, and only five stayed there in their rule. Hades finds all but one of those five incredibly trying.


_Characters not mine._

_(Originally written for a genfic challenge on comment_fic. Prompt was "Hades' thoughts on his siblings.")_

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He's barely been in the other god's presence for five minutes, and his temples are already pounding gently just beneath reach of his fingers. It's a talent Zeus has.

Hades is also certain Zeus has something else to attend to, some lightening bolt or other project that should require careful attention. But no, he pulled his brother aside to talk about his latest fucking conquest. Poor Io.

Poor _Hera_, for that matter, who was shamed into marrying him in the first place.

Zeus is an idiot.

As often as it occurs to him, Hades knows that it's not entirely fair. Zeus is good at controlling the unmanageable family atop Olympus, and just enough in his dealings with the mortals and immortals who come to him for help. But his desires and moods are as changeable and unpredictable as the weather he holds sway over. The only constant, so far as Zeus is ever concerned, is that he _will_ weather the consequences. His latest conquest might not, but that's immaterial. Zeus is forever. They're not.

Keeping up with those kind of changes, with the why's and how's and what-for's, for more than about five bloody minutes makes Hades seasick. He is the constant against Zeus's whims, one of the few inevitabilities in a world of conflicting desires. Zeus is not that much younger than Hades - certainly not after millennia of their rule - but he never fails to make Hades feel incredibly _old_ and tired, and that only compounds his irritation at his brother's insensibility. Can he ever decide, just once, that he doesn't have to have whatever it is he wants_now_ like a spoiled child.

So "idiot" it is. It's much simpler.

-o-

Hera is different. Hera is more constant, and Hades likes that about her. She was once a sister he could rely on, proud and haughty and convinced of her own righteousness, to cut through whatever it was that was holding them back.

However, she is also _miserable_.

Oh, she'll always deny it, even on those days Hades sits beside her in her garden and misses what she once was. She threads flowers through her hair and teases her handmaidens and tells Hades he's projecting his own gloom onto her, but the slight tremble to her lips suggests she knows she's not fooling him. And they both know that she can't hide the anger burning in her eyes concerning her husband's latest antics.

The hating and the hiding have turned her cruel as well as miserable, and Hades pays his sister fewer visits than he once did. He misses her haughty confidence, but he'll never tell her that.

When he comes to her after Io, Hades listens to her lies as though he believes every word and lets her ignore the elephant in the room and never mention Io. He twists flowers through her hair in a way Persephone taught him and talks of household management.

It's not her fault, that she and Zeus are what they are.

-o-

"You're wet."

Hades wrinkles his nose. He's never hated the smell of sea brine, but he can't say he's fond of it, either. And Poseidon positively reeks of it.

But Poseidon just shakes his hair our like a dog and grins as the curls spring back into place. "What did you expect, brother?"

Hades snorts and doesn't answer, because there is none that really works, and Poseidon ignores his brother entirely and starts talking excitedly about sea battles and Athena and possibly having bested her for once.

Hades sighs. Not only does he find the rivalry between Poseidon and their niece tiresome, he is certain that neither of his brothers could stay on one topic to save their lives.

But unlike Zeus, who's changes are all-too-often sudden and unwarned, Poseidon is relatively easy to read. Oh, the wind can pick up and there can be a storm in his eyes before anyone knows it, but Hades knows the language. The shifts are also steady, almost rhythmic in nature. His fury, his calms, his good-natured ribbing and bouncing when he's gotten his way. He's as constant as the tides - he will change, but it will be more gradual than Zeus's sudden gales.

Hades is still mildly irritated by the wave of enthusiasm for tiremes crashing against each other and upping his workload, however.

-o-

But while Zeus inspires exhaustion, Hera unspoken pity, and Poseidon mild irritation, if there is one sibling he truly dislikes, it is Demeter. She is everything Hades is not - greenery and sunlight, and pure, blinding _life_ scurrying around her. She bursts with it, and Hades can feel his own coldness curling inwards whenever she is around. There shouldn't be so much of that in one place.

And it certainly doesn't help that she _loathes_ him in turn. He took Persephone away.

Never mind that she comes back to her mother every fall. Nevermind that Hades adores her daughter. Hades and Demeter are complete opposites, and then he took Persephone away. He doesn't come near her if he can possibly avoid it.

-o-

Hestia is tending the fire.

Hades comes in quietly and sits on the floor beside her, watching her watch the flames, and how the reddish heat flickers over her pale face. She ignores him at first - but then, Hestia ignores everyone at first, her focus always on the sacred flame.

Finally, she glances at him, arching a brow. "How are they?"

Hades smiles sardonically. "Do you really want to know?"

"I can guess." She wipes a brown curl back behind her ear and leans back, cocking her head slightly. "And your realm?"

"As it always is. Just as the family is as different as ever."

Hestia smiles, and they settle back to enjoy each other's presence in silence. The warmth flickers over Hades, too. It's comforting, as changeable as the gods of the living are, that he will always be able to steal a few moments at Hestia's hearth and with it a small taste of true peace.


End file.
